


We've all been there

by Tired_Mixtape



Series: My Original Narratives [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Original work - Freeform, Pregnancy, Religion, Self-Reflection, Stranded, Unplanned Pregnancy, church, young mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tired_Mixtape/pseuds/Tired_Mixtape
Summary: Of course this kind of thing would happen to me.A character study from my grade nine english course.
Series: My Original Narratives [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793668
Kudos: 1





	We've all been there

I tap the tire with my cane.  _ Yes. Definitely flat.  _ I let out a shaky breath and wobble towards the back of the car. My arms groan as I attempt to lift the spare tire. After a few more seconds of desperate heaving, I give up with a huff.  _ Curse these feeble arms! _

Whipping out my cell, I dial for help.  _ No service. Of course. I thought retirement was supposed to be relaxing! _ Dread envelopes me and I anxiously lean against my car while prodding the dusty ground with my cane. A flat tire in the middle of the nowhere is not a good situation to be in. After calculating my chances, I conclude that it was less than likely for anyone to find me out here for a while. The unused road is hardly discernible from the wilderness. Small shrubs speckle the red dirt around me and a rattler can be heard in the distance.

Sighing, I finally resign myself to this unholy fate.  _ I am going to die out here. _ The whole situation triggers a memory in me. Closing my eyes, I reminisce of a time when I felt as hopeless as this.

* * *

“Please! I just need a couple more hours,” my plea fell on deaf ears. Without so much as a second of consideration, my manager proceeded to shoo me out of the restaurant grumbling something about an ‘ungrateful brat’. With tears of frustration and stress threatening to escape the confinements of my eyes, I rushed home pointedly not sparing a glance back at the glittery building.  _ A place like that isn’t meant for people like me.  _ A fleeting thought as I disappeared around the street corner.

Flopping into my beat-up recliner, I contemplated my predicament. At the rate I was going, I wouldn’t be able to pay this months bill, let alone have enough money for groceries. I exhaled and cleared my head for a moment while stroking my tummy. A smile teased at the corner of my mouth as I felt a sleepy kick. A few more weeks and I’d get to see her face. I didn’t actually know the gender, but I was convinced I’d be holding a delicate daughter in my arms come the end of the month.

That month had been the roughest and most life-changing chapter in my life. I had taken every odd job I could find and began selling anything and everything I didn’t deem a necessity. It was also my first time at a church. Late as I was, every eye in the small congregation was on me as I had happened to noisily interrupted their prayer. I was about to retreat back out the door when a gentle hand led me to a seat in the crisp white pews. She had the warmest smile I had ever seen. With the help of the church community and some hard work I was back on my feet in no time. I was even considering colleges.

* * *

shivering as a chilly breeze sweeps past me, I realize how late it’s gotten. The sun is nearly down and small stars are glittering in the darkened sky. I decide it’s about time I climb back inside when I hear a grumble from down the road. Leaving a large cloud of dust in its wake, another vehicle makes its way down the road. The old pick-up truck pulls to a stop behind my car and the headlights momentarily blind me. 

A bulky man steps out and I flinch as the door slams shut behind him. The darkness and distance obscure his face, but the headlights on his truck provide enough light for me to see his two full sleeve tattoos. I gulp nervously as he takes a step closer.

“Mercedes eh? Not bad.” At the sound of his voice, all previous worries melt away.

“Evan!” I shrilly address him, “Why ever did you decide to live out in this wasteland?”

He chuckles warmly at my outburst.

“Sorry, Mama. The outback beckoned me.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a short story I wrote in grade 9, which would be 4 years ago for me now. We were given different prompts and encouraged to work outside our comfort zones. I chose to write from the perspective of an elderly woman, as a way to challenge myself. I honestly find this extremely cringe inducing, but I only had a single class to write it and I was 14. So it's not sooo bad, right? I'm documenting all of my original narrative works, so I thought I'd include this anyway.


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